


Your Morning Cup of Coffee

by thesnicken



Series: e/R being cute and domestic [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, enjolras the coffee adict, just cute and domestic as the series name suggests, smooching and stuff, this is bad im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 15:52:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2394221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesnicken/pseuds/thesnicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Grantaire start the moring as they always do, with coffee, frustrating news aritcles, debating, and maybe some light burnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Morning Cup of Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this months ago but had to get my laptop replaced so I never got to post it until now

Grantaire awakes to the sound of the bustling and the coffee machines from the café below Enjolras and Courfeyrac’s flat. It’s a highly welcome contrast to the screamo Jehan likes to play in the morning to wake them both up in Grantaire’s own flat.

Enjolras’ bedroom is always light. Even in the dead of night, the orange glow of the street comes in through the thin drapes, covering the room in shadow. The white walls always have sheets of paper stuck to them-articles, pamphlets, documents-that help him remember things. The only other decoration to be found in the room are photos and mementoes of Les Amis that covered most of his wall space.

Grantaire throws his legs off the side of Enjolras’ bed and leans over to the drawer in the cabinet which is assigned to Grantaire. He grabs clothes and shrugs himself to his feet, making his way to the door.

When he walks into the main living space, Enjolras isn’t there, but the TV is on, the fridge is left open and the door is unlocked.

Grantaire notices that the news is currently reporting a story on how immigration is ruining the country. He is all too aware that Enjolras always leaves his flat in a huff of annoyance to get coffee from downstairs when something on the news pisses him off in the morning. And as if on cue, Enjolras comes stomping back into the flat.

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” Enjolras says, shaking his hand towards the TV.

He then proceeds to mumble under his breath for some time about the issue.

“Enjolras please.” Grantaire gets up and flicked off the TV. “It’s only 7.15. Relax for a moment.”

He moves over to stand across from Enjolras at the breakfast bar who is aggressively sloshing his coffee from his reusable coffee flask into his “What would Robespierre do?” mug.

Enjolras slowly calms down, the coffee aiding his mood greatly. Grantaire leans on the worktop, watching Enjolras sip at his coffee while pouring Grantaire's into a mug.

“I don’t understand why you go down to that café every morning when you could just get a coffee machine. It would save you, like, a fortune.”

“That café downstairs has the best coffee in the city, a coffee machine can’t mimic that and if there’s one thing I refuse to compromise on, it’s my morning coffee.”

“I can think of a lot of things you refuse to compromise on.” Grantaire murmurs.

“I’m just gonna go ahead and pretend you didn’t just say that,” Enjolras says while pushing a large Harry Potter mug towards Grantaire.

“Okay, but I have another question about your morning cup of coffee,” says Grantaire.

“Go on.” Enjolras says, eyeing Grantaire over the rim of his mug.

“Why do you get your coffee made in your flask and then pour it into a mug? Why not just get them to make it in the mug, save yourself the washing up?”

“Because I don’t want to carry three mugs of coffee up the stairs. Half of it’ll be spilled by the time I get up here,” replies Enjolras as he begins shoving papers into his bag.

“Then why don’t you just drink it from the flask? Again, it would save you time on washing up.”

Enjolras sighs as he ties his hair up.

“Because I don’t like drinking out of a flask.”

“I see you drinking out of a flask all the time.”

Enjolras begins to realise that this is simply Grantaire starting an argument for the sake of starting an argument. It’s simultaneously the best and most annoying thing about his boyfriend.

“That’s when I’m out. That’s during the day time.” Even as Enjolras is saying this, he’s already making another cup of coffee into his flask to take with him.

“Really, Enjolras? You’re already making you’re second cup of coffee and you haven’t even finished the first? And why can’t you drink from the flask in the morning anyways?”

“God, R, I just prefer drinking from a mug. And yes, I’m a coffee addict. Coffee may or may not be more important to me than any petition or protest. Now, as riveting as this discussion is, and as much as I know you love questioning everything I say or do in the name of debate, I really must be going.”

Enjolras downs the rest of his first coffee, picks his second one and his bag up off the table and swanders off, calling back as he leaves, “Wake up Courf for me, will you?”

Grantaire sighs and sips at his coffee with the odd feeling that something was being forgotten.

He gets up and slowly walks towards the TV, flicking it back on before standing outside of Courfeyrac’s door and rattling it hard. The following groan that came from behind the door is a clear sign that Courfeyrac is in fact alive so Grantaire decides to throw himself down on the sofa, relieved to see that the news had moved on to a slightly less Enjolras-rage-provoking story.

It’s only a few moments later that the sound a rapid footsteps can be heard as Enjolras rushes back up the stairs. Grantaire looks around before Enjolras reaches the door, wondering what he left behind.

“What did you forget?” He asks as Enjolras walks hastily towards the sofa where Grantaire is still sat.

“You,” Enjolras mumbles.

Grantaire barely has time to question this before Enjolras kisses him.

He leans up, into Enjolras’ mouth, suddenly remembering what it was that felt wrong after he left. They always have to kiss before they part. It's weird when they don’t. It isn’t like they had intentionally decided upon this ritual, it just sort of happened. Every morning before Enjolras leaves, after every mid-morning coffee they share, after every meeting when Grantaire has to get home. They always kiss, whether it be a peck or something deeper.

This time, it’s considerably longer than usual, as if they’re apologising to each other for forgetting. Grantaire slides Enjolras’ ponytail through his hand, twirling his fingers around the ringlets. Enjolras is still standing, but leaning over Grantaire in a crouch that can’t be at all comfortable. Enjolras barely let’s his fingers touch Grantaire’s face, afraid that if he does so, he won’t be able to leave

. It isn’t until Enjolras gives up on temptation and goes to caress Grantaire’s face, forgetting about the hot flask in his hand and burning Grantaire that they actually pull apart.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” Enjolras cries as he flutters over Grantaire’s burned cheek.

Grantaire moans about it for a second, holding his hand to the burn, until he realises how adorably flustered Enjolras looks and gets distracted from the pain.

Enjolras does a weird hop on the spot as he considers what to do and apologises an awful lot. Grantaire smirks to himself while Enjolras rushes to find an icepack.

“Seriously, Enjolras? You think you and Courfeyrac own something as practical as an icepack?”

Enjolras tells him to hush cause burn victims aren’t supposed to speak according to him.

Eventually, Grantaire just gets up and throws his face under the tap, letting the water cool the burn, more for the sake of satisfying Enjolras rather than to ease his minimal pain.

“Enjolras, go. I’m fine,” Grantaire assures him.

Enjolras sighs and makes a pained sort of noise at the back of his throat before listening to Grantaire and picking up his bag and flask

. “Are you sure you’re okay? Oh my god I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I burned you’re face!”

“Just leave already, you’re late as it is!”

Enjolras eventually listens to him and kisses Grantaire lightly on his burned cheek then once again on the mouth before flurrying off. Grantaire’s left sitting and smiling to himself, his cheek numb from the cold water, thinking that he is going to love making fun of Enjolras for this later.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally just wrote this for an excuse to mention the "what would Robespierre do?" mug cause my history teacher actullay owns one it's the best  
> Also I know that a flask wouldn't really do anything to burn you but oh well who cares


End file.
